James G. Piatt

James earned his BS and MA from California State PolytechnicUniversity, and a doctorate from Brigham Young University. He isretired now and spends his summers gardening and sitting along side ariver, listening to jazz, reading, writing, and penning poetry. JohnJames Piatt and Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt two of Dr. Piatt’s relativeswere prolific poets who wrote their poetry in the mid eighteenhundreds. Their poems have influenced much of his style of poetry.

Sitting on driftwood alongside an alien seaHe wrote deep thoughts upon his wounded knee:As the ocean murmured its sad song like a dove,Amid the scarlet sandy dunes soft as a glove,He dreamt of purposes vast and high, andThe pulse of his yearning stirred the mighty sky.

The tide’s cadence prodded him to write a poem,As his wandering mind continued to roam: He wroteThe world is not able to heal form within, andMen seem unable to exist without war’s sin,He supposed because it was their failure to fly, andThe pulse of his yearning stirred the mighty sky.

Yet, in his hopeful heart that longs for peaceHe will forever search for war’s quick decrease,Therefore, in his poem he will write a true story,Of a man who dutifully died for his country and glory, andFor whom death came silently without a sigh, andThe pulse of his yearning stirred the mighty sky.

You Will Weep Again

Ghostly images of dying soldiers will departThey will evaporate into the coral twilightThat covers the bloody scars of death

The imagery will die like the thousands whoExpired in blood-spattered alien sandWhere only gloomy shadows now linger

Sounds of bullets and bombs will no longerBlast into your mind like ghostly windsYour mind’s eyes will forget the horror

Fear will diminish like the drops of bloodThat once drowned the scorched earthAnd are now covered by shifting sand

Someday under soft leafy treesAs the sun rises in an orange stillnessThe bloody thoughts will be buried

As bees suck the honey from perfumedFlowers and butterflies flutter amongThe roses they will be lost in time

They will leave your saddened soul andYou will live and love once againIn the still fullness of a sunny day

But in the murky chillness of slumberless nightsThese deadly portraits of long gone horrorsWill vividly emerge from your lost memories

For a brief time you will remember andSob unceasingly in the dark stillness of the nightOver the world’s obscene obsession called war

Coming Home

Scarlet dawn painted upon his bloody face,Icy winds blow frozen fear into his mind,Bombs keep exploding at a deadly pace,Agony of pain echoes in his mind;Thunderous salvos scream in the icy wind,Thunder of battle echo over a hill, Bloody and erect he is resignedTo be brave, fight and even kill:He who once lived however is now gone,The man-child once held in a mother’s armWill not be coming home to see the dawn,The flag covered crypt does alarmThose who sit alone in their grief,In their sad hearts, there is no relief.

Beside a Brook

While I sit beside the brook flowing softlyAcross boulders and mossy granite stone,I dream that lazy trout are swimming there allAlone, however, dreaming doesn’t make thingsTrue, like clouds in the sky, are not really pirateShips, of a ghostly hue. As I sit on the warm sandListening to the songs of gaudy birds, asEgrets sail gently over the ponds, and frogsCroak their happy words, I view the white BirchTrees swaying to and fro, hoping the lazy timeWill continue to advance so slow, and the dayWill travel extra long, like a sweet, and haunting song.

Briny Recollections

Standing next to misty hopes,While listening to the whisperingOf the ocean’s sad voice lingeringIn the haze of a sad tomorrow’s morn,I become lost in the shadows ofPast images of the rape of the ocean!As I eavesdrop on the scarlet wounds ofThe sea, my hollow eyes gaze at the starsWhich, encounter the dark firmament, withUnbridled anticipation! The melody of the tide,Creates a nostalgia in my mind, salty notesPenetrate my senses with tears. How canI stifle the melancholy I have of the horror,What can I do to unlatch sentimentalThunder, which echoes in my aging mind?

When Time Leaves

Scarlet roses surrounded by blossoming Thyme,Stretching to welcome the bright morning sun,The meandering Mint ends its daily quest of time,Life’s long journey ends and then I am done.

When years of my youth are finally through, andThe abundant gardens are no more, the sweetAroma will rise from a grave so black, so true, andThe abundant sky will open its vast indigo door.